Kisses
by olehistorian
Summary: In response to the recent Chelsie-Prompts Tumblr prompt: "Kiss." This will be a drabble series that outlines kisses that Charles Carson and Elsie Hughes experience over the course of their lives. Each chapter will be 300 words or less. Carson/Hughes-centric with other Downton Abbey characters involved
1. Her Father

**March 1880**

It was her father's kiss to her cheek that brought the tears. Not the little hug that Becky managed before she returned to playing with the mother cat and her kittens out near the barn. Nor the kiss of her mother as she told her elder daughter to take care, to write as often as she could, and warned her off young footmen who'd be looking to steal a kiss behind a closed door. No, it was her father's kiss that left young Elsie Hughes in tears as she boarded the train that took her away from home from the first time and would rarely take her home again.

She was the daughter who looked so much like him, who watched for him to come in from a hard day in the fields, and gave him a fierce hug as he lifted her in his arms. She and Becky had sat at his and their mother's feet as he told stories of faraway places, imaginary dragons, fairies, and all manner of mythical creatures. Elsie listened as he talked of politics, his life as boy, and how his grandfather's father fought against English oppression.

She loved him and he'd always been her greatest champion.

He loaded her tattered case that held her clothes, shoes, her Bible, and some family pictures onto the train and then took her hands in his. Elsie held on tightly to the work toughened hands of her father. With one final kiss, Daibhidh Hughes put Elsie on the train bound for Yorkshire that day. He told her to make something of herself. To forget farming life, the hardships that it brought, to see a bit of the world, and to live her own life.

It was the last time that she saw her father alive.


	2. February 14, 1876

February 14, 1876

 **"** **Now since I'm not inclin-ed** **  
** **To tell you his name** **  
** **He's the laddie and the man,** **  
** **That lad that I lo'e well** **  
** **But when he sings, the valley rings,** **  
** **And he makes my heart full o 'joy** **  
** **Go where ye will,** **  
** **And I love him still,** **  
** **He's my darling ploughman boy."**

* * *

He'd been fascinated with her from the moment he saw her. She was all beveled cheekbones, emerald eyes, and cherry stained lips. Fine porcelain skin, a hint blush to her cheek. With a tiny corseted waist and a bosom that flared out in the most becoming way, Alice Neal was the most bewitching creature a nineteen-year-old Charles Carson had ever laid eyes upon.

Each night while the Cheerful Charlies waited in the wings for their cue, he made a study of Alice. While most in the audience thought her sister the more talented of the two, for she was the real songbird of the Lark and the Dove, Charles only had eyes for Alice. He thought her made of the purest, most feminine stuff and so perfect that he'd have not believed anyone if they'd told him her feet ever actually touched the ground.

After months of quietly pining for the pretty and gentle Miss Neal, Charles was certain that she would never notice him as a potential suitor, not with more handsome men, less shy men, more daring in their pursuit of her buzzing around her skirts. She seemed to enjoy their attentions and he contented himself to remain her steadfast friend.

Just before the evening performance, Charles found a small envelope on his dressing table backstage. Opening the envelope, he removed a valentine card but no name was signed. He assumed that Grigg had played a cruel joke on him. Tucking it in his pocket, Charles made his way to his usual post just off stage.

The Neal sisters' final song was a love song from their mam's homeland*, and as the crowd cheered, Alice gestured and blew kisses to the audience before turning and with a meaningful look, blew one final kiss to the man waiting in the wings. Charles touched his fingertips to his coat pocket and patted them against the card therein, an inclined head and an unspoken question asked.

A nod and a smile from Alice made his heart swell. He'd swear he felt the kiss she'd blown him reach his cheek.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading and the response for the previous chapter. It means so much to me. I've gone a bit over on this one at 348 words, excluding the lyrics snippet. Gosh it's difficult to stick to 300 words when a whole fic could be written around Carson's time on the stage.

The song that the Neal sisters sang is titled: My Darling Ploughman Boy and the lyrics can be found by Googling and there is a musical snippet on YT.


	3. September 1895 - Joe Burns

**September 1895**

She didn't love Joe. Not the way that she thought she ought to love him as a wife should love her husband. Certainly not the way she knew her mother had loved her father. What Elsie felt for Joe was comfortable companionship. And deep down she knew that Joe Burns deserved more than that.

A good man, a kind man, he had promised to love her to the end of his days. He promised to work hard, to be a good provider, to give her whatever she needed and wanted that was within his means to afford her.

He wanted them to work the farm together and to build something of their own. Joe promised dances on Saturday nights and Church on Sundays. He saw little boys with dark curly hair and the fighting spirit of their mother. Boys sprouting into strong men who'd carry on his name and work the farm after he grew too old and too frail. Joe had spoken of little girls blossoming into beautiful women like their mother; women of purpose and strong will who he would cherish.

But in the end, Elsie remembered the words of her father and turned Joe down, squashed the idea of life on the farm and the cycle of failure, struggle, prosperity, and doing it all over again.

She'd worked too hard, scrubbed too many floors, endured too many harsh housekeepers to give up her rising ambitions of becoming housekeeper in her own right.

So, Elsie Hughes traded a stable of pigs and sheep, a garden of vegetables and greens, and a house full of beautiful bairns for a grand manor house, position, and borrowed children.

Sitting on an uncomfortably rigid pew in an empty church, the congregation long dismissed after service that day, Elsie held Joe's hand and offered a tender kiss to his cheek as she delicately turned down his proposal.

Three days later, she boarded a train that took her Downton village and to her new position at its grand manor house.


	4. August 1877 - Three's a Crowd

January 1876

Annie Carson had cried when her only son told her that he was leaving home and that he intended to see a bit of life outside Yorkshire. She begged him to stay, to enter service like his father and grandfather before him, and find a nice girl to marry. But he politely insisted that he was destined to go another way.

Despite his wife's protests, Earnest Carson pulled young Charlie aside and clapped a firm hand on his boy's shoulder. The father told the son that every man needed to find his way in the world, even if that way might bring him back home one day.

* * *

August 1877

Charles was desperate to see Alice that night. What with their appearing at different music halls and Charles working an extra job to make up the difference in what Charlie Grigg stole from the till, their time together had been little as of late.

A bouquet of flowers gripped tightly in his hand, Charles fidgeted with his collar as he rounded the corner from the pub to the building where Alice shared a flat with her sister. As he walked, Charles had mulled over exactly how he'd fall to one knee, look up to her smiling face, and ask for her hand.

His heart swelled as the tinkling of her laughter floated over the din of the city and danced across his ear. His heart raced as he increased his pace to meet her.

And then he stopped cold. His feet rooted to the pavement.

He saw the object of his affection standing near the door to her building.

And the reason for her laughter clear: Charlie Grigg's kiss tickling the soft skin of her neck.

* * *

October 1877

The firm grip of his father's hand and the warmth of his mother's embrace around his slumped shoulders proved as humbling as anything. Feeling half a fool and half a prodigal, Charles was thankful for his parents' welcoming embrace and for the position that his father had arranged for him at the manor house in Downton.

Cheerful Charlie was now to be Charles Carson, second footman. His broken heart hidden by a starched livery.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.


	5. September 1895 - Lady Mary

September 1895

She was an imperious little thing, he had to admit that. But then again she was born to it. Her entry into the world had come with the spectacular fanfare that befit the birth of the Earl of Grantham's first grandchild. Years had passed since a child had the run of the Abbey and the butler simply adored the little raven-haired spitfire, her eyes full of mischief. Lady Mary Crawley ruled Downton Abbey as any good monarch should with equal parts, authority and self-awareness.

Knowing that the entire castle fell under her domain, the little girl pushed Nanny's patience to exhaustion as her charge constantly ventured below stairs. She bounded through the kitchens nicking biscuits as she bounced into the servants' hall. She irritated the old trout of a housekeeper to no end as she banged happy yet out of tune melodies on the piano for the servants' amusement as they enjoyed their tea.

One evening as quiet finally descended upon the house and Carson enjoyed his small sherry and the musings of Dr. Johnson, he heard a timid knock at his door. As he bid entrance, he watched as Lady Mary entered his pantry diligently trying not to cry.

Upon questioning, she admitted that she was upset that her granny loved Lady Edith more than she loved her, at which point Mr. Carson pointed out that Lady Mary would always be the first born, and that was special honor, especially in his book. Though Lady Mary smiled at his suggestion, she told Carson that if, perhaps, she ran away, she might be more appreciated. Therefore, as she had no money of her own, she needed some silver from the silver safe so that she might sell it to fund her adventure.

"Well, that could be awkward for His Lordship. Suppose I give you a sixpence to spend in the village instead?" The butler simply smiled and reached into his pocket to retrieve the sixpence and placed it into the small hand of Lady Mary

"Very well, but you must to charge me interest," she said quite seriously.

"Very well my lady."

Days later, after Carson had forgotten about the sixpence and Lady Mary had not run away from home, there was another knock at his pantry door.

"Come in," he called.

"Carson."

"Yes, my lady."

"Thank you for the sixpence and I've come to repay you," four-year-old Mary Crawley replied with all of the gravity she could muster. She reached into her bag to retrieve a peppermint stick wrapped in grease proof paper and smiling, handed it to the butler.

"Thank you my lady, I shall enjoy this." And before he knew it Lady Mary tugged on his trouser leg and asked him to kneel down.

"Thank you Carson," she replied sincerely as she placed a sweet kiss to his cheek.

Carson's heart swelled with affection for the little lady as she turned on her heel and raced upstairs.

As the years went by Lady Mary would be one of the two women who would hold his affection.

He loved Mary as a daughter.

The other woman he loved as completely and fully as a man could love a woman.

A/N: Thank you for reading. Thank you all who are reading, following, and reviewing. I certainly do appreciate it. Reviews have dwindled so that is a gentle hint that this does need to be wrapped up. There will be a few more entries with the final chapter coming on Valentine's Day. I apologize for not getting around to the last set of reviews for everyone, but I am in the middle of a chapter for an academic work that is due very soon and I am a procrastinator. x


	6. William - A Mother's Kiss Goodbye

A/N: Thank you all so very much for sticking with this little collection of kisses. I very much appreciate it. There will be a Valentine's update tomorrow and maybe one or two after that. Then we've reached the natural conclusion. This next one is a little sad, but it deals with a subject that I feel like canon left an unsatisfactory conclusion to. I always felt there was a special bond between Elsie and William and we didn't get to see how she reacted to his death or if she got to spend any time with him before or as he was dying. TW: Death.

A/N2: The chapter(s) to follow is (are) all Chelsie and frought with sexual tension and love and all that other Chelsie stuff. :)

1918 - William

William's hand had been so startlingly cold that it almost burned her flesh when she cradled it between her two warm ones. For a moment the sensation was so shocking that she wanted to recoil, wanted to pull her hands away and clasp them tightly in front of her. But he was alone and she hadn't the chance to say a few words to him. With a sad mist over his eyes, Mr. Carson had given her a nod and William one last look then left her to get on with her business.

So Elsie sat, by this boy's side; this boy she loved.

Poor William hadn't a mother's loving touch, a mother's voice to ease him from this life into the next. His father was of some comfort but in the way that men are. Trying to be brave, encouraging William to the end that he could win a losing battle. Daisy hadn't known what to say, not far from a child herself, and feeling guilty for marrying a man she didn't love.

And though she wasn't his mother, Elsie hoped to say a few words over him. A few words a mother might say. A soothing voice to tell him that he was a good man, kind, and gentle. A hero for King and Country and that his sacrifice would never be forgotten. She hadn't been there when he drew his last breath, but she'd hold his hand now, until the undertaker came to carry him away.

As she held his lifeless hand, she marveled that it looked like porcelain. Clear of bruises or cuts, it was as alabaster as any marble figure she'd seen. Large hands, she thought, smooth and clear. And the thought struck her that he'd have made a good successor to Mr. Carson. He'd have been tall and strong, regal, and fair minded.

She remembered when he'd kissed her goodbye as he left for the front. After he'd kissed Mrs. Patmore, but before he kissed Daisy. As they stood in the yard, she'd told him to mind his safety and that she expected to hear from him when he had time to write. He was so enthusiastic to head off to war. She worried. War was no game and he was no toy soldier.

She wasn't sure how many minutes passed before she heard the bedroom door creak open and she turned to see Mr. Carson and Mr. Mason standing there.

"Mrs. Hughes, the men from Grassby's are here," Mr. Carson said quietly as he pushed in slightly.

Mrs. Hughes turned her gaze from the butler and drew William's hand to her lips. With a gentle kiss, she bid him goodbye. She had offered him comfort, but she'd keep her own sorrow to herself. After all, who would comfort her when she woke with tears streaming down her face in the darkness of the night?

"Mrs. Hughes, are you going to be all right?" Mr. Carson asked, his voice low and laced with grave concern.

"Yes, Mr. Carson. I'll be fine," she replied as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek.


	7. A Kiss Unrealized

She was in disbelief when he told her that he was considering going to Haxby Park. She could not believe that a man with such high standards as Mr. Carson would go to work for such an unscrupulous man as Sir Richard Carlisle.

Selfishly, she thought of herself. What would she do without Mr. Carson? He was the only Butler she had ever known at Downton and her dearest friend. Who'd take his place? Certainly not the snide and conspiratorial Mr. Barrow.

When she stood in the doorway to his pantry and watched as he closed the wine ledger and sighed as he commented with both gratification and resignation on the size and content of Lord Grantham's wine cellar, she knew that he had made his decision. Her heart sank into her stomach and suddenly it became all too real to her that he was leaving.

She had to admit she felt a pang of jealousy yet she knew she had no right to it. They had made no declarations and she had no rights to tell him he'd be miserable leaving the only home he'd known for most of his life and that she'd be at loose ends without him. That she would feel lost in a way that she couldn't explain.

Honestly, she didn't know exactly what she felt for the butler but it was a combination of fondness and something else that she couldn't quite put a name on. She certainly had no idea how he felt about her except that he'd looked quite upset when she'd talked of the red-faced farmer's proposal all those years ago. But, she knew very well how he felt about Lady Mary. He loved her as a father and wanted to protect her. One thing she did know was that Elsie Hughes could protect herself.

The tension was thick between them and she asked him if he had made his decision to leave. She didn't why she asked except that she hoped that he might say, "Yes, Mrs. Hughes. I've decided to say. I cannot leave Downton. I cannot leave you." But she knew that he would not say those things.

"Don't tell me you'll miss me," he remarked trying to cut the tension. She knew that it was now or never to let him know how she felt.

"I will Mr. Carson and it costs me nothing to say it," she said, rooted to her spot at the door.

He forced a smile of appreciation and in that moment she had a half mad thought. She wondered if she'd stepped forward, put one hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder, and tugged him down to her,and if she had whispered against his lips a sweet confession might it change his mind?

"Please don't leave Mr. Carson. I can't bear it if you were to leave me." Would he reconsider? If she kissed him, pressed her lips against his, parted them slightly, and took his top lip between her hers could she change his mind?

But she didn't. She stood rooted to the place at the door.

A kiss unrealized.

Thank you for reading. Please pardon any errors. There is another kiss unrealized from Season 3 I'd like to explore and hopefully post in a few days. This one from Charles's perspective and then we move to a canon kiss. A review would be lovely.


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